Dear fellow adventurer:
Come for a visit, stay for the experience.
Experience the grandeur of vast mountain ranges and simplicity of endless waterfalls. Be intrigued with wild and marine life that can be viewed without binoculars. If after coming, all you want is to see it, stay a few days. But I am sure you will agree after being here, it's more than scenery. If you want to truly derive an experience that will alter your life -you need to stay.
Returning to My Home
After thirty years of being away from this remote wilderness it would seem that I was traveling to a strange place, one I had read about in books or watched on television travel shows. The only communication I had during those years with friends from my past experiences in Alaska were yearly updates on annual Christmas cards. Those certainly didn't communicate anything about a void that was missing in my life.
I grew up not really knowing any place as “home”. We moved a lot and I cherished every new place and the broadening horizons provided. But I could never lay claim to one location as a home. Home then simply was where my family was. The closest I came to having a home was a place that is rare and unique. I often times wondered if it was the atmosphere and the people or the captivating wildlife and scenery that made it a treasured place in my heart.
It was a place where friends abound, acceptance is the norm and beauty is a simple word. So simple that by expressing it verbally one cannot convey the warmth of community and majesty that exists.
I moved from my birthplace in Wyoming to Alaska when I was seven. I wasn't anxious to leave behind existing friends, cousins and grandparents I loved dearly. But somewhere inside I yearned for new things and the new experiences that were waiting. I had never flown on an airplane. But in 1969, most people hadn't. This adventure was only the beginning of a life that would change my perceptions forever. As I boarded the wide body plane I left behind a small pickup truck of family belongings that would be shipped at a later date. We left much behind both in a material and emotional sense.
At the airport my Aunt purchased Pez candy dispensers before we entered the plane and embarked on a 3000 mile journey far to the North. The flight did not seem long as it was broken up with a three hour stop over in Seattle. As a child we were in no hurry to get anywhere and loved anything that brought about another opportunity for fun. Three hours to stretch, run and explore an airport that had just finished construction of an underground subway train system. Another new adventure.
After our stop over in Seattle we boarded a flight to an unknown and virtually uncharted territory that had only recently gained statehood. Alaska. It was 1969. The oil boom hadn't really hit hard yet so life was still unsettled and to some uncivilized. Such conveniences as running water and indoor plumbing were not available to all residents yet. Wilderness buffs thrived on living in the “bush”, miles from any hint of civilization and often only accessible by plane, atv or snow machine.
We arrived late in the evening in September. The weather was a bit cooler than where we had left, but not uncomfortable. We were greeted by an eight foot encased brown bearing staring down at us with claws that put an NBA star's fingers to shame and much sharper and deadlier. The airport was small with only one airline serving the rural town of Kenai. The twenty or so passengers who accompanied our flight quickly grabbed their bags and went on their way. My father had moved to Kenai earlier in the summer. He was not there to meet us as he had some problems preparing the gas lines in the mobile home that would be our new house. This would be quite a change from the five bedroom home in a newly developed subdivision that we left behind. Here we sat, a bit apprehensive and certainly uncomfortable with a place so foreign to our previous lifestyle.
The flight this time was a bit different. Things were different than in 1969 and had changed some even since my Flight Attendant days in the 1980's. New technology gave digital flight numbers at the boarding gate. Also quite different from the time I spent as a Flight Attendant, the check in screens for standbys was conveniently displayed overhead with appropriate seat assignments. No waiting to hear your name called and rushing on the plane at the last minute.
